


Into the Deep

by Lady_Therion



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff, Mates, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Therion/pseuds/Lady_Therion
Summary: Nesta and Cassian go for a late night swim.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 7
Kudos: 90





	Into the Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this lovely anon prompt from tumblr: “Can you write a fan fic about nesta and cassian somehow ending up in a lake or a pond and them swimming together and playing with the water?” The answer is yes. Hell yes.

She’d been under too long. 

Far too long for Cassian’s liking. So much so that he started to pace. 

“Nesta,” he called. “Stop showing off. This isn’t a game.” 

The irony of him saying those words aloud. To Nesta, of all people. Though to be fair, it did start out as a game. A dare. Something childish he would have goaded his brothers into doing. _Who can hold their breath underwater the longest?_ Nesta surprised him by taking him up on the challenge. She had been doing that a lot lately: surprising him. 

She surprised him when she said yes to coming to Illyria. She surprised him when, against all odds, she asked him how to throw a spear. She surprised him again when she told him that the Cauldron still called to her — and that the thought of being enslaved to that ancient and unfathomable power frightened her more than anything. 

She surprised him most of all when she confessed that she felt more at home here, in the wilds and in his arms, than she ever did in Velaris. That he had been right. That the house, the apartment, the very city itself, was destroying her. 

_I was never meant for that life_ , she told him. 

_What do you think you’re meant for then?_

_This_ , she had told him, sweeping her hand toward the Steppes. _And you._

That had been it for him. She had held his heart ever since. And he, in turn, held hers. 

But that wouldn’t mean anything if he allowed his beloved to _drown herself_ in a lake over a foolish _dare._

Ever the romantic, he had brought her to this secluded place because it was known to be beautiful on moonlit nights. He had been shy in this pursuit, blustering to Nesta like a callow youth as he entreated her to come with him. He wanted to give her a _proper_ courtship, as any honorable male would. It was the least of what she deserved.

She agreed, out of bemusement, if anything else. Who could have imagined that one of the most powerful Illyrians in history could be so...overwhelmed by a single woman? A woman that barely lived a breath in comparison to most Fae. 

“Nesta,” he called again, strain creeping into his voice. How long had it been? Five minutes? Ten? It felt longer than that. Perhaps there was merblood running through her veins. Even so, the eldest Archeron was still not invincible. If she didn’t surface soon, he would drag her out himself.

_As if she would actually let him._

But just as his heart began to pound, a ripple fanned out on the placid, mirror-like surface. Then another, and another. Until finally, Nesta herself emerged and joined him on the soft, grassy banks. The smugness on her face was more telling than a cat’s.

“Thirteen minutes,” she said, reveling in the fact that she could best him in this one, small thing. She could actually best him in many ways, especially as she was now: naked and wet and flush with triumph. Fire rose in his blood, as it always did whenever she was near. He enfolded her, pressed his bare chest to hers, marveling at the way her curves molded against him. _Mine, mine, mine_ , his instincts whispered. _All mine._

She seared his lips with a greedy kiss, as his fingers tugged at the ends of her soaked hair. He was _enthralled_ by the strands of her hair, the pulse beating at her throat, the heat of her skin...  
  
“I’m obviously furious with you,” he said, dragging his tongue over her collarbone. 

“Spoil sport.” 

The slight hitch in her breath made him tremble as he continued downward, past her hips, her thighs...The scent of her arousal thrilled him, made him hard with wanting. He hadn’t known, until now, what it meant to ache for another person. That he had been aching for her all along — one soul yearning to complete the other.

A cold splash and suddenly he was submerged neck-deep, sputtering out water as Nesta dove in after him, as smoothly as a pebble. Perhaps her ancestors were merfolk after all. 

She kissed him again when she reappeared at his side, then plunged when he tried to reach for her. They played this game until, finally, he caught her around the waist, pressing her back to his front. For a moment, they just drifted there...alone, in the quiet. The hushed forest and the dark waters completing their peaceful tableau. Peace. How fragile it all was and how hard-won.

He traced a line down the slope of her neck with the tip of his nose, breathing her in. She leaned back, bared more of it for him. A vulnerable position for a Fae. It was a signal of how far they had come, and how much trust he had gained. 

“It’s not like the last time,” she whispered. 

_The last time…._

The last time they had been caught in such depths, he was half-dead and she was nearly so. He could remember the blood, her screams, his utter powerlessness to do anything. Terror flooded through him. Rage. Despair. All of his valiant promises shattered apart as the Cauldron swallowed her and her sister whole, forging them into something else.

The Carver had revealed the truth of it. With the last of his strength, Cassian had called to her, awakened her, tugged on that tenuous, spider-silk thread that wound through their souls. He had given just enough of himself that she was able to pull herself out by her teeth….

He tightened his embrace. “No, it’s not like the last time.”

Nor, he vowed, would it ever happen again. He would protect her even in death. For no matter what world they would venture into next, they would always meet here, somewhere in the deep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, loves. I am lady-therion on tumblr.


End file.
